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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26733475">Let's burn the bridges down</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shenanigans/pseuds/Shenanigans'>Shenanigans</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>DCU (Comics), Red Hood/Arsenal (Comics)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Character Swap, Earth-11, F/F, F/M, Female Jason Todd, Female Roy Harper, M/M, implied toaster and coffee maker illicit love, no beta we die like robins, trope: two halves of a whole idiot (in love)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 09:54:32</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>16,872</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26733475</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shenanigans/pseuds/Shenanigans</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Roy makes things, sometimes he knows what they do, sometimes he doesn't. He wasn't intending to swap his Jason with the one from earth-11, but well, he's learning to live with surprises.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Roy Harper/Jason Todd</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>106</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>163</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Whoops, I don't think it's supposed to do that.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>The Earth-11 universe swap fic that wouldn't stop pestering me. So, I'm inflicting it on you all as it happens.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"There is no reason for you to have seventeen coffee cups," Jason bitched, picking through Roy's workspace with a frown as he reached to snag another mug. "Seventeen, Roy. What the hell?"</p><p>"You are judging me so hard right now, Jaybird. I feel very judged," Roy's voice was muffled from where he was halfway swallowed by a tangle of electronics and a waterfall of wires. Jason frowned at his backside, making a note to buy him a new pair of jeans. The hole just under the pocket had torn more, the plaid of his boxers visible and the waist gaping at his back. There was a smear of grease on his side that matched the same stain on the edge of a belt loop and the bottom hem of a band shirt where it was riding up. </p><p>"It's not judgement if it's the truth," Jason muttered, tucking another mug against his chest and leaning over a rolling tool cart to grab the last. It was the biggest and claimed "World's Best Dad" in bold black Helvetica font. </p><p>There was a clatter as Roy heaved himself backwards, stumbling slightly on a loose screwdriver and popped out of the machine, flushed and wild haired to point at where Jason had been, correct himself to where Jason was now, and grin impishly. "What did we agree on?"</p><p>Jason frowned bitterly, gesturing at Roy with the armful of dirty mugs. Roy simply raised both eyebrows and cocked his head like he was listening. Jason sighed. "Your workspace is a judgement free zone."</p><p>"Exactly." Roy bent, picking the screwdriver up and flipping it lightly against his palm. "And what were you doing?"</p><p>"Judging you."</p><p>"That's what I thought." He crossed the space, taking the biggest mug back, sniffing it once, and sipping the now cold coffee with a slight grimace. "You don't have to clean up."</p><p>"We're out of mugs, Roy. They all live here now." Jason stuck a finger out, letting Roy hook the mug on it when he shot the last of the cold coffee. "What's that?"</p><p>Roy looked over his shoulder, tucking the hair slipping out of the hair tie behind his ear. "Dunno."</p><p>"Should I be worried?" Jason was still cleaning the scorch marks from the kitchen when the last machine had made advances on the toaster.</p><p>Roy rubbed at his eyebrow, smearing grease there. Jason restrained the urge to reach over and rub it off. "I don't think so? Maybe? I didn't put any explosives in it."</p><p>"And yet," Jason turned, noting a fork on the floor and bending to grab it. "That hasn't stopped things from exploding before."</p><p>"One time," Roy spluttered, voice going muffled again and Jason knew if he looked back Roy would be bent into the machine again. "You blow up the kitchen one time."</p><p>Jason smirked, glancing over to the mess of the workbench, the neat peg board he'd installed empty with the tools grouped in small clutches around different bits of half finished genius. He noticed one of Lian's ponies and started towards it.</p><p>"It's not like I meant to.  <em>Aha</em>! That's it! " There was a click followed by a warm hum, something that sounded like it was scraping the inside of Jason's bones accompanied by the taste of metal and an overwhelming pressure that popped his ears. "Shit. That's not... <em>ohshit</em>. Jaybird! <em>Duck</em>-"</p><p>They had seventeen mugs and Jason idly realized they were all shattering on the cement floor of the workshop. He'd have to buy more. Then the world pressed in, tight and hot and white, skimming into him like a long barbed hook under his ribs and tugging with a soft pop.</p><p>Jason felt a stretched second that flipped him inside out, gut wrenching and blindingly painful that snapped with an audible click. He felt his stomach roil, protesting as he stumbled, tripping on a toy car and hitting his knees. He panted there, the cement floor dusty under his palms as his mouth watered, the sick taste of bile at the back of his throat as he panted and tried not to puke. He was still holding the purple plastic pony, it's tail a neat braid he'd helped Lian create. </p><p>"Ow? What the fuck was that, Roy?"</p><p>Instead of a husky laugh and a stumbled apology, Jason heard the soft coiling noise of one of Roy's smaller crossbows being strung. "Who are you? Where's Jaye?"</p><p>The voice was a soft husky alto, the kind that had always made Jason wet his lips and pay attention. The kind of voice that couldn't help but sound like rough sex and whiskey. He had no time for questions, still reeling and caught off guard. They must have been under attack- it wouldn't be the first time a group of angry women had tracked them down to try and kill them. Jason didn't tense, just threw himself to the left and pulled the gun he kept under his pant leg, strapped to his boot, flicking off the safety even as a quick burst of heat crackled as an arrow exploded where he'd been.</p><p>The girl followed his movements, reloading with trained proficiency despite the casual outfit. She was a stunning redhead, tall and pale under a layer of cinnamon colored freckles and tattoos. He noted a few ropey pink scars on her arms, another scar cutting her top lip, her crooked nose and that she was wearing the same band shirt Roy had been wearing. It was his favorite, so thin Jason could see his ribs move when he breathed and the faint outline of the tattoo on his chest. She was unwavering, her aim following him easily. She paced backwards, darting a quick look around the same machine Roy had been tinkering on. "Jaye?" </p><p>"What?"</p><p>The girl's gaze snapped back to where Jason had answered her. "What did you do with her? Where's Jaye?" She reached a free hand to hitch her loose jeans up her hips.</p><p>"I'm Jay," he replied, taking a chance and thumbing the safety back on, letting the weapon roll on his fingers to point uselessly at the ceiling as he lifted his hands. The girl watched him, shivering in the cold and Jason absently noted that he could see her nipples through the thin shirt as easily as he could see Roy's ribs. "Jason. Where am I? What happened?"</p><p>"Don't fuck with me," she snarled and Jason widened his arms, setting his gun down on the workbench. The pegboard was still empty, but his neat block handwriting was different, slanting and more fluid where he'd labeled each item. He glanced down, glad of his boots as he noted the broken mugs on the ground. There was a large piece of white mug that proclaimed "World's Best Mom" next to the bright purple Hot Wheel Camaro that had been flattened by his weight, one tire pointed to the left while the rest faced the right. "I will fuck you up if you hurt her."</p><p>Jason blinked. "Roy?"</p><p>The girl narrowed her eyes at him, turning to look at the machine at her elbow. "Oh god damnit. She's going to be so mad at me." The tip of the wicked looking arrow dipped and the girl slumped, rubbing at her face and smearing a bit of grease over her brow. The move was so familiar even if the swing of her long bright red hair was new, even if her fingers were slim and elegant under a few colorful kid's bandaids. "Shit. Shit shit shit."</p><p>"What happened?" Jason tried, keeping his voice low and gentle.</p><p>She snorted, turning a flat look on him. "You don't have to use your don't panic citizen voice on me. It's weird and creepy." She set the crossbow down, rubbing the bottom of a bare foot against her opposite calf and climbing into the hole on the side of the machine, shirt riding up to reveal a smooth line of pale skin and a tattoo at the small of her back. She tipped, kicking her feet and huffed a triumphant noise that caused a ripple of electricity to spark and smoke along a far circuit board, the whole mess making a sad beep before powering down. "Whoops."</p><p>Jason blinked, noting that he shouldn't be surprised. "Whoops is never good."</p><p>"Are you judging me not Jaye?" came a soft startled voice as she wriggled backwards, tugging her shirt down and glaring at him with wide green eyes. She was tall for a girl, broad shouldered and built for distance and strength. He'd pulled his eyes up from the hint of six pack when she swiped absently at her face with the hem. She seemed to pause then, really looking at him. </p><p>She had the same single minded focus of his Roy and it swept over him from the top of his hair to the soles of his boots, lingering for a breathless second on his arms, his thighs, and then his face. "You're big. Damn."</p><p>Jason frowned at her, smoothing his hair down and crossing his arms over his chest. "Still waiting."</p><p>"Oh, right!" She closed one eyes, rubbing at her collarbone and obviously mentally parsing how to explain what was going on. "How familiar are you with the quilted multiverse theory?"</p><p>"What did you do?"</p><p>"Hey! It's not just me, man. It takes two to tango on this. Blame yours too."</p><p>"Trust me," Jason muttered. "I am."</p><p>**</p><p>Roy shoved out of the machine, smacking at where his arm hair was singed and smoking. "Shit. You okay over there-" Years of training had him ducking the moment he heard the gun cock, the clang of a bullet into the metal locker behind him echoing. He launched himself toward a pile of discarded parts, snatching up a small crossbow as he rolled, pulling his heels at the next rapid gunshot. "Don't shoot!"</p><p>"Where's Harper?" The question was punctuated by another shot and Roy looked to the left, sighting the small mirror over the sink next to the emergency shower they'd installed after the glue arrow incident. A black haired woman with vivid blue eyes, a snarling mouth, and slim compact muscles slid through the space on silent feet. She had a small pistol sliding over the room, eyes quick as she catalogued the space and advanced. "You have ten seconds to answer me. Ten. <em>Nine</em>."</p><p>"I'm Harper you fucking crazy person!" He tossed a ratchet head to clang against the locker, using the noise to roll and stand, crossbow pointed at her even as she swung a muscled arm to point at his head. He grinned, heart thumping with excitement.</p><p>She was stunning, sulky mouthed and angry with smokey eyes under a sweep of glossy dark curls. He blinked at the white streak, mouth dropping open in understanding. </p><p>"Shit."</p><p>"You aren't Harper. Where's my partner? I'm losing my patience." She had a surprisingly musical voice, sweet and pure toned. Roy felt his smile go crooked as he dropped the crossbow and stared openly. This Jason Todd was glaring at him, the look startlingly familiar. She had chin length hair that curled back from her face and a split brow that arched elegantly. She was pale with a sharply planed heart shaped face and the impossible curves of a movie star from the forties, narrow waisted and built like one of Roy's wet dreams. He swallowed back a throb of desire and remembered she had a gun aimed at his head.</p><p>"I'm Roy. Roy Harper." He pointed at the machine. "It works?"</p><p>“Eight,” she replied, voice clearly unamused and aim steady. “Seven.”</p><p>“I wasn’t sure it was possible, but I was reading about the quilted multiverse theory and I figured that if I could find a way to make...” She slanted a look to the side, taking in the machine and Roy took a chance, reaching to slap the weapon to the side and thumb the slide, pulling it off and letting it fall. She was moving before he’d finished, grip on his arm bruising before she used a straight push and twist Roy had seen Dinah use before, and he was thudding flat on his back. He could feel the sheering pain of the hold on his wrist and didn’t have time to try a countermove before she twirled and planted on top of him, knees pressing into his shoulders and booted feet hooked against his sensitive parts. He was more worried about the knife at his throat. </p><p>“<em>Six</em>.”</p><p>He exhaled, trying not to flush at the position. “Think of a sewing machine. It punches through one layer, threads the loop from behind, and yanks the other thread back up through the fabric.”</p><p>“I don’t fucking sew.”</p><p>“I don’t do dishes,” Roy’s mouth answered, flirting and crooked as he tilted his head back a little, letting her see his throat. She smelled like expensive shampoo and gunpowder. “The metaphor stands. You’re Jason Todd in this dimension.” He wet his lips, moving his hands slowly, palm up so she could watch, and touched the blade of the knife- pressing to move it away from his pulse. “It wasn’t on purpose, bringing you here. It wasn’t supposed to work yet.”</p><p>“Harper is safe?” she asked, frown going thick on her face and Roy wondered briefly if his Jason was worried.</p><p>“Well, I’m thinking I’m less likely to shoot someone no questions asked than you are,” Roy mumbled, unsure where to put his hands. He didn’t think she’d appreciate it if he spread them over the breadth of her thighs. He settled for lacing his fingers together and tucking them behind his head. He smirked at the way her eyes flickered over his biceps before moving back to his face. “So, probably.” He paused. “Am I a girl too?”</p><p>The woman on top of him snorted, rolling her eyes and sat back on her heels. “She’s my best friend.”</p><p>"Am I hot? I hope I'm hot."</p><p>The incredulous look was all Jason Todd and Roy beamed at her, delighted. She shoved at his face, a hand planted heavily at the center of his chest as she pushed to her feet and stared down at him. “Yeah, I can see it now.” She slanted another look at Roy and he moved, letting his hand scratch at his stomach. He liked that she watched that too before tearing her gaze away and searching the workspace. “This is weird.”</p><p>“Only weird if you make it weird,” Roy muttered and rolled to his feet, bouncing once to settle his jeans and then moved back to frown at the machine. He pulled the hair tie from his hair, finger combing it back and twisting it into the messy half bun again. “I can fix it.” The machine sparked, barking a soft sad noise and whistling to silence. “Maybe. I think. Um. Jaybird?”</p><p>“Don’t call me that,” she answered, her voice going sharp. She looked up from where she’d plucked a bit of broken mug off the floor. It had been his favorite that Lian had gotten him for his birthday. “You can call me Jaye.”</p><p>“Got it.” Roy leaned an elbow against the machine, swiping at his face with the bottom of his shirt before grinning crookedly at her. “You didn’t answer my question.”</p><p>“This place is a mess,” she replied, wrinkling her nose; it was the same finicky face Jason made. </p><p>Roy liked that she’d avoided the question. He liked that the tips of her ears had gone red instead.</p><p>“That sounds a lot like judgement, Jaye.” He said tartly, flipping a screwdriver and pointing it at her. She set the bit of broken mug on the workbench and turned to look at him with those thickly lashed blue eyes. “This is a judgement free zone.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. The more things change, right?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“I think I have some sopressata?” the redheaded girl was saying as she frowned into the refrigerator. This Roy had her back to him, freckled shoulders canted in counterweight to the line of her hips. The kitchen was a tidy rectangle with a butcher’s block topped island, white apron sink, and a few scorch marks on the pretty pale green cabinetry. There were holes in the wall above the sink where a curtain rod had been and a perfect silhouette of a toaster burned into the tile backsplash that curled around the entire wall above the counters. The fridge door was covered in children’s drawings, a white board with a neatly labeled schedule in several different colors of dry erase, and clusters of shiny photographs huddled under ridiculous magnets. </p><p>“Jaye doesn’t let me in here after the whole toaster incident.” She glanced back at him, long red ponytail flopping over her shoulder. She scratched at her ribs, t-shirt rucked up absently as her gaze glanced off of him and snapped back. She fidgeted, shifting to stand with the sole of her left foot against her right calf, holding on to the top of the door as she continued rambling.  “She says I am a menace.” Jason could practically hear the air quotes. “She says if I want to play with my robots, I need to keep them from fondling the things that go boom." The girl made a little abortive hand gesture, fingers flicking out in a vague mimicry of an explosion. Jason watched the way it flickered the wiry muscles in her forearm.</p><p>"I think she’s being ridiculous, really. Like, how else am I supposed to figure out how to make sure the thing does what it’s supposed to do without just letting it, you know, do the thing.” Her voice moved out of the whiskey rasp into something soft and musical as she cracked the lid on a Tupperware and sniffed it. “<em>Harper</em>, we are very <em>serious</em> vigilantes. We don’t make <em>procreating</em> toasters.”</p><p>Jason was standing in the doorway of the kitchen, watching a growing pile of cold cuts and sandwich fixings clutter the countertop. He was fighting a long stringing moment of cognitive dissonance following him as he had followed her from the workshop up the stairs to the living space. </p><p>Everything was the same. This was Roy’s house; except it wasn’t.</p><p>"Royal. My name," she'd told him, picking through the workspace to him on bare feet. She’d bent to pluck something off the floor, the front of her loose shirt gaping. Jason exhaled sharply at the flash of smooth pale skin, freckles splashed over her collarbone, and the easy sight of her breasts- the pale pink tips of bare nipples before she straightened. He turned his head, staring at the far wall of the workspace before turning back to where she was frowning at the broken hotwheels car. She tucked it into her pocket and smiled crookedly at him, pointing to herself with a bandaged finger. "Royal Harper.”</p><p>The workspace filled the entire basement floor of the house, open and well lit. “Don't say it, I've heard it all. A Royal and a Queen? Ha ha ha. Funny, right? Jaye just calls me Harper. Um, so I guess... you can call me whatever." She'd flushed hotly, a blotchy pink spread that had pushed up her neck to stain her cheeks. "Not like a hooker! Not like a who-do-you-want-me-to-be? call me whatever.  Just in the... friendly way? Aw hell." She'd palmed her face, slumping in a defeated line before rolling her eyes so hard it propelled her forward again. Jason had moved quickly, catching her around the waist and hoisting her up before she could walk on the scattered shards of porcelain mug.</p><p>She’d squeaked; her strong hands moving to his shoulders as she stared at him, soft mouth dropped open and soft with surprise. He’d realized what he’d done, hands stretching around the hard muscle of her waist. He’d been aware of the way he could feel the heat of her skin through the thin fabric. He’d felt his pulse flicker in retrograde embarrassment. 
</p><p>"Careful," he'd mumbled as explanation. “Don’t, um, broken mugs.”</p><p>"Right. Wouldn't want...." She trailed off, a flicker of pink tongue as her fingers curled into the shoulder seam of his shirt. This close he could see the freckles over the bridge of her nose, the way they covered her skin. It was the way they covered Roy. He'd torn his gaze from where they disappeared into her hairline.</p><p>“Shit. I don’t. I’m sorry. Hangon.” He’d turned, carrying her the few steps to clear the mess and set her down gently. She’d coughed into a wide genial smile. Her eyes were the same green too. Jason had been able to see the flecks of gold that matched her lashes. Her hands had lingered on his shoulders. He’d wanted to touch the small scar in her lip.</p><p>"Call me Harper. It's easier." She’d leaned up, blinking at him up close. “You have the same freckle in your right eye.”</p><p>He’d had to look down, to look away. His eyes had followed the dainty curl of her pale long boned toes as she shifted. He’d realized belatedly that he was still holding her steady and snatched his hands back. "Harper it is." </p><p>Now, in the kitchen, she had spiked a package of Capri Sun, sucking at the tiny yellow straw as she kicked the fridge shut and waved at the pile on the island. She lobbed a second at him. He caught it easily before it could smack him in the face.</p><p>“It’s a <em>fire hazard</em>, Harper,” she muttered, making a face around the next sip.</p><p>“It <em>is</em> a fire hazard,” Jason said absently. She froze when he spoke, throat working before setting the tupperware next to the loaf of bread. She’d been making fun of this version of him, he realized. Jason tucked his hands into his pockets and looked at the ceiling instead of at where she was pale and pretty across the island. The cold of the fridge had left her nipples hard in the soft cotton shirt. It was distracting. He needed to stop staring at her breasts. “You probably disabled the fire alarm in here, too. Roy’s always doing shit like that.”</p><p>“God, this is weird.” Harper smiled at him and it was the same: crooked and perfectly self deprecating as her eyes flicked over his face and then down over his chest before snapping back up. Her ears pinked. “It’s only weird if you make it weird, Harper.”</p><p>Jason slanted her a sly look and moved to take the white deli paper package of sliced sopressata from her, batting her away easily and starting to assemble the sandwiches. “It’s definitely a little weird.” He opened the drawer to his right, happy to see the same level of organization here as his kitchen back home. “No mayo, right?”</p><p>“Mayo, but only if it has one part mayo and three parts sriracha.” Royal was watching him and it was the same studiously blank look Roy got sometimes, eyes tracking Jason’s hands as he cooked. She gave herself a small shake and beamed at him. “What’s he like? Me? Him-me.”</p><p>“He’s my best friend,” Jason answered without thought. He was moving everything into a quick mise-en-place before moving to the sink and reaching around her to open the cabinet with the small glass mixing bowls. She ducked under his arm, hand at his hip and rolled lightly to open the dishwasher.</p><p>“Shit, right, no mugs. ‘Mugs don’t live in the workshop, Royal’,” she muttered, voice going that same light lilting parody of other-him. “Damnit. Is tap water cool, Jay...son? <em>Jason</em>?”</p><p>“Water’s fine,” he answered, plucking the sriracha and settling it next to the half full jar of mayo. “What do you want to know?”</p><p>She flicked on the tap, filling one glass with room temperature water, no ice, and setting it on the island for him before moving to the fridge to get some ice for her own. “Is he... um.” She scratched at the inside of her arm and frowned roughly. “Shit. I don’t even know where to begin.” She set one hand on the counter, sipping from the glass as she watched him mix the mayo and hot sauce. </p><p>“Basics are probably the same?” Jason cracked the romaine, pleased at the fresh crisp sound. “He’s a vigilante. He’s sober. He’s a good dad-”</p><p>“He has Jian? How did that work?” She crept closer, sliding up next to him and pushing onto her toes to peer over his shoulder as he sliced a tomato with a quick flick of a knife. “I mean, I get the particulars, but like-” She gestured to herself like it was an explanation. “I doubt he’s got stretch marks.”</p><p>“Lian,” Jason answered, trying not to think about what her skin looked like. He kept his focus on the sharp edge and not the way she leaned against his back. This was familiar except for the soft press of her small breasts. Roy was always in his space, pushing close and draped against him. “His daughter.”</p><p>“Daughter?” she hooked her chin on his shoulder and Jason stilled at the curl of fingers into the back pocket of his jeans. </p><p>Roy would put a hand on his hip, that was normal. Roy would talk at Jason while he cooked, the casual press of his chin common-place. Roy was just like that, undaunted and planted in Jason’s personal space like he belonged there, like it wasn’t a question of boundaries. He’d always been physically demonstrative- a tap to Jason’s hip to move him around the kitchen in the mornings, a hand scruffing Jason’s hair when it was sweat damp from the helmet, a bump of knee to silently signal movement on a job, an easy broad hand squeezing at the back of his neck when they laughed together. Roy was tactile. Roy was clingy. Roy was an unrepentant cuddler. Jason had gotten used to the relentless encroachment on the couch when they watched movies, it was a war of attrition and Jason wasn’t sure when he’d surrendered. He’d gotten used to Roy’s hands on him. </p><p>This must be a universal constant: no one dared to touch Jason, except Roy. This was the same. His heartbeat disagreed, throbbing like it would shove him into the touch, into turning soft against her. Jason felt poleaxed at the way he wanted. It felt vaguely trembling, dangerous, and forbidden. He tightened his grip on the knife handle, breathing through the way his stomach felt warm and aware. She seemed to relax, melting against him and he reminded his dick that she trusted him as it tried to thicken in interest. </p><p>“Yeah, she’s seven,” he answered, keeping his movements fluid so he didn’t dislodge her. “The mom isn’t in the picture.”</p><p>“Is it still Cheshire, right?” She cuddled closer, tucking her nose against his skin. “Joong would be hot as a girl, I guess.”</p><p>He turned and her face was right there, close and shuttered with a quiet sad longing. “Yeah. Cheshire is Jade in our universe. Roy didn’t know, but he... he just stepped up when he found out. I don’t know if that’s the same?”</p><p>“Joong didn’t even know I was pregnant,” she answered, pulling back quickly and clearing her throat. “We just... we connected when I was undercover. I was pretty fucked up then and it seemed like he loved me.” She shrugged, the movement pushing her tighter against him. “Just the typical story of the Royal fuckup.” She leaned back to smile at him, electric and falsely beautiful and he hated it on her as much as he hated it on Roy. “Drug addict teen mom who believed the villain when he said he loved her. Stupid, right?” </p><p>“I heard it from everyone, don’t worry.” She turned, hopping up onto the closest counter, heels bouncing off the wood. “The pull out method isn’t contraceptive, Royal.” He could almost hear Dick saying that, the earnest incredulous tone wildly judgemental and condescending.  “What were you thinking?” She pulled the hair tie from her hair, the tumble of red breathtaking before she combed it back and caught it up again.  She kept going, husky voice slipping into the mocking cadence of holier-than-thou help as her movements went jerky, flicking her hair from side to side until she dropped her hands and moved into a mockery of what Jason could almost identify as the Oliver Queen point and pontificate. “You weren’t. You <em>never</em> think.” Her body language shifted and Jason saw the worried well meaning words of Dinah.  “Were you drinking again? God, what if you’d caught something? I told you to get the implant.” Again and it was the folded arms of midwestern disapproval. He could nearly taste Wally’s supercilious advice. “Have you tried just <em>not</em> sleeping with everyone? Are you keeping it? You can’t afford a kid! You can’t-”</p><p>“They’re wrong. They’ve always been wrong about him.” Jason set the knife down with a sharp clatter. “Roy is the best Dad I’ve ever seen. No one in the caped community comes fucking close. He loves her so much. He puts her <em>first</em>. He’s made mistakes, yeah, but that’s what makes him a better hero than any of those uptight fucks. He gets it. It’s easy to sit on a high horse of judgement, but he’s lived it. He still chooses to be <em>good</em>. Every day. <em>Every damn day</em>, he gets up and is the person Lian thinks he is.” He closed his eyes. “He’s more of a hero than any of them. He <em>saved</em> me. When everyone else had given up on me,” Jason’s voice cracked and he ducked his head before looking at her. “He knew how to reach me. I don’t know why, but he still sees the good in people even when they’ve treated him like fucking dirt. He’s a good man. He’s-”</p><p>He cut off at the way she was staring at him, fumbling to a stop. “He’s my best friend.”</p><p>She shook herself, face going carefully blank, eyes inscrutable. The air in the kitchen felt heavy, the potent weight of an oncoming storm. It crackled at the edges, tracing over Jason's skin where it prickled under the steady assessing green gaze. It felt like a touch. He swallowed as she slipped off the counter, his exhale stuttering in tick tock time with the silent settling of her bare feet on the tile. She cocked her head and Jason couldn't catch his breath, winded from the way the warm feeling plunged into thick sticky desire. It startled into him- rattling in his wrists, his ribs, the tense ache at the back of his neck. It prickled, plush and warm, at his hairline. He was frozen, body so tense it almost hurt. He took a half step backwards as she moved forward, bumping back into the island, hands curling uselessly at his side.</p><p>She cornered him, tall and freckled, broad face with it’s broken nose and quick quirked smiles. He was trapped between her gaze and the island at his back. She was assessing, weighing and learning. “Do I look like him?”</p><p>“Yes.” He had no weapons against this: the way she reached a hand, slow and perfectly aimed to press her fingers against his lips, nails cut short and he shivered at the way he tasted them with a quick touch of his tongue. It wasn't conscious, just necessary. He was too large, too bulky, awkward in his frame as she went alight- eyes dark and heavy lidded under the rising burnished pink of a blush. </p><p>"Best friend, huh?" Her breath hitched and he flinched. "Do you- do you?” she breathed, voice careful and full of something that Jason could almost taste as intent. “You’re in love with him?"</p><p>"I-," he sputtered, jaw locking up around a throb of unmitigated, cold terror. He couldn't answer the question; the silence sounded helplessly heartfelt in his chest. He wondered if she was completely off the mark, but couldn’t deny that she had Roy’s incredible instinctive aim. “He’s my <em>partner</em>.”</p><p>"Holy shit, I'm an <em>idiot</em>." </p><p>“Don’t say that,” Jason huffed. It was a habit, reminding Roy of his worth. </p><p>She nodded, sighed, and cut the distance between them. One step halved the space and he wanted to lift his hands, lift his palms to skim over her ribs. They moved when she breathed. He wondered how many times he’d counted Roy’s breaths just like this. How many times had he wanted to feel his skin shift and the flex of each inhale under his palm like proof that Roy was real. He was watching her teeth touch the familiar freckle on her bottom lip. Why was it familiar? How many times had he found it like a mark on a map that meant home? He could feel his body ache at the slip of pink tongue when she wet her lips. </p><p>"I’m going to kiss you, okay?" she asked and it sounded deliberate and reasonable. She sounded like Roy.  The question didn’t sound like something that could destroy him in her mouth. It didn’t sound like she was stripping him down to the need in his bones. Roy had always been more comfortable being naked. "Please don't hate me. I just... I just need-"</p><p>"I couldn't," he told her as she pushed up onto her toes slightly, easing her mouth against his like the creep of steeping tea. </p><p>Jason’s world went technicolor- awake, aware, and <em>alive</em> at the touch. It was only a kiss, a warm careful press as she sipped his mouth, as she melted against him, a brush of calloused fingers sketching along his jaw. He wanted to be embarrassed of the noise he made when she touched his top lip with her tongue, nipping a question of permission into his bottom lip. Jason folded into the heat, into the way he stumbled forward. Any objection he had ever had, all his careful internal arguments against this, evaporated at the scorching wave of incandescent desire. Jason burned and unfolded, catching her around the waist to haul against him, alight in this electric pulsing want. </p><p>It happened between throbs. The way she laughed: breathless and delighted into the next kiss like she’d finally solved a puzzle; the way she angled back just enough to wriggle out of her t-shirt: bare breasted and beautiful. He wanted her under his hands. She reached between them, fingers nimble as she gets him unbuttoned, unbuckled, <em>undone</em>. “Take this off.”</p><p>There’s no pause. Roy always just pushed into his life, into his space. Roy never noticed the wall he’d built to keep everyone out. Jason had built it with Roy already inside.</p><p>“Touch me,” she husked, voice cracking down the middle as she kept moving. She blew out a breath, mouth swollen and kiss slick as she grinned at him like he’d given her a gift. She looked at him with an easy hunger. She was corded muscle, flat stomach cut with muscle with sharply defined arms rippling under the sun-faded tattoos. She tossed her thin shirt to the side and he was startled at how quickly he went hard when she thumbed the tip of one of her tight peaked nipples. Harper noised roughly as she started walking backwards, her other hand hooked into the front of his open pants. “Holy fuck, look at you. <em>Jesus</em>.”</p><p>Jason scrambled after her, grabbing the back collar of his shirt and ducking out of it in a quick hurried haul. He heard another soft aching groan from her even as her hands landed on his skin, hot and calloused, mapping the shape of him. The scratch of her nails over his ribs chased all thought from his head. He followed her, shoving at his pants with fumbling fingers. The denim caught at his thighs; his holsters in the way. She shimmied her jeans over her hips, her long red ponytail swaying from side to side. Jason was entranced- captivated by the bounce of her breasts as she hopped once, letting her jeans puddle at her ankles with a heavy thump. He knew she must have kicked them aside, the skitter of the metal button on the tile buried under the noise he made when she straightened, arms loose at her side- naked for him. She was a hammered weapon, lean and strong with thick stretches of freckles that clustered around her shoulders, over the tops of her collarbones, the bright rosy pink of her nipples, another tattoo over her ribs, a puckered bullet wound scar just above her hip, the silvery stripes of stretch marks fading as his gaze slid down. He exhaled like a gutshot at the sight of fiery red hair between her legs. </p><p>“Can I?” his voice cracked, a low aching throb of sound as he reached, helpless to the way he needed to touch her there. He needed to feel some version of Roy wanting him. She hummed a soft permissive sound that dropped into a honey flavored moan when he turned his wrist, palm settling against the crackle of red hair as he reached to find her.  His fingers stretched and then curled to draw a loose line against the slippery wet heat of her. “I want-”</p><p>“Yes, anything. Fuck, <em>Jay</em>-” she shook her head and hooked a hand at the back of his neck ducking to press her mouth against his ear as she shook into his touch. “Let me give it to you. Please, I need...”  Harper hauled herself up, legs folding around his hips as her mouth found his again. She rolled against him and it was happening so fast, reckless and relentless. </p><p>"Roy-" he thumbed at her, tracing the delicate skin under the welling wet. He was desperate for more. He palmed the back of her head as she held herself around his hips with the strength of her thighs.</p><p>"<em>Fuck</em>," she breathed, eyes wild and pale skin flushed blotchy. "Say you want this." Her hand twisted between them, shoulder against his chest as she wormed her hand into his briefs to hook them down just enough to tuck under his balls and free him. His hips went tense, stomach clenching as his thick length bobbed once and jutted toward her. It was a tangle of arms and hands and he shifted, hefting her slightly and catching the back of her thigh with slick fingers. His dick throbbed, swollen and aching in her nimble fingers as her warm dry palm closed around him. She lifted her eyes from between them as her thumb smeared over the wet mess of precome. Jason stared, longing, into green with red gold lashes. He stared up close and out of focus and it was perfect. “Say you want me.”</p><p>“I want you.”</p><p>Her face was ruddy, the flush of arousal scarlet as she pulled her hand back, licking her palm, and wrapping it around him again before he could form any sort of coherent protest. She stroked him with a firm easy grip.  "Oh fuck, <em>Jay</em>-"</p><p>He caught her mouth, pressing his tongue into her with a groan. He felt the strength of her arms, her weight in the press of her thighs, the clutch of her other hand at the back of his neck. This was real; this was happening. He didn’t spare a thought to anything but her lean archer’s body as he held her and panted against her open mouth. Jason walked them forward, thumping her against the wall. He let himself think about how often he’d wanted just this, Roy looking at him like he was something special, something more than rage and a body count. Something <em>beloved</em>. He’d believe it from Roy. </p><p>He pushed a hand under her thigh, holding her up. He held her eyes, those same laughing green eyes, so he wouldn't miss anything. She snarled, stroked him once, and hitched herself onto him. There was a thready incoherent moment of completely irrational lust as he felt her tuck the head of his dick just barely inside her- a riot of heat and wet. “Just let me...” She tilted her hips and sank onto him. They slotted together, stunned and panting at the press. </p><p>"<em>I want</em>..." </p><p>He wasn’t sure who had spoken. It didn’t matter.</p><p>She didn't look away as she pulled her hand back. Her body was flushed, feverish and prickled with sweat. He reveled in the way her fingertips shook when she traced the line of his mouth and took him with a sinuous flex of hips and thighs.  He curled an arm at the small of her back, the other twisting the length of red hair around his fingers and tugging her head back. He was shaking as his calves flexed in time with the urgent rock of his hips. Desire was a slow visible tremor over his arms, in his thighs, panting against the violent need to move, to fuck and claw deeper. He buried his face against her neck for a breath, the throb of her pulse ticking against his lips as he moved, gentle and curious inside her.</p><p>She turned her jaw against his hair, before fighting against the grip he had and huffing open mouthed breaths to bloom hot over his scalp. He shoved up into her again, feeling the way it rippled through her.  She snarled into the possessive demanding way he kept pressing deeper, wedging and pulling for more. </p><p>“Is this-?” he barely managed around the acute possessive need. </p><p>She tightened her thighs, clawed at his shoulders, and dared him with a crooked grin. "Is that all you’ve got?" She moved on him, slick wanton heat and perfect. "<em>Move</em>."</p><p>Jason could never resist Roy's dares.</p><p>**</p><p>Roy was trying very hard not to stare at where a female version of his best friend was sitting tucked into the corner of the couch, strong legs folded under her, and both of her scarred hands holding the paper cup of take out coffee. He’d had to mumble the embarrassed explanation that the coffee maker had decided to elope with the toaster. “I’ll get us some bagels and coffee from Sal’s, okay?” </p><p>“Double-

</p><p>“Toasted, yeah. Got it.” He’d left her to wander the house with the warning to not open the hall closet. </p><p>She’d snorted and arched a brow at him. “She has her secrets too.”</p><p>He’d been trying to figure out if he should be insulted when she waved him off and started walking her fingers along the spines of the books on the shelves. She’d pulled one with a small interested huff of noise and Roy had slung his keys around his knuckle and forced himself out the door.</p><p>Now, he was staring. Jaye Todd was blowing delicately over the surface of her black coffee with a soft mouth. She didn’t look up, her thick dark lashes a sooty smudge against her pale skin and glossy black hair curling around her stunning jawline. He wanted to reach and tuck her black hair back behind an ear so he could get a better look at the long wicked looking scar cutting her right eyebrow before it tripped over her high cheekbone. </p><p>“You’re staring,” she stated after a moment, tipping the cup to take a small sip. He startled at the musical warmth of her voice.

</p><p>“I am,” he agreed, softening the statement with a wide easy smile. He refocused, bent forward with both feet on the floor as he doctored his coffee methodically. “You’re pretty, Jaye.” He shrugged as he added another two packets of sugar to his milky sweet brew. He added the packet wrappers to the growing pile on the coaster. “You’re judging my coffee, I can feel it.” He winked at her over his shoulder, adding another two packs. Her nose wrinkled at the sight. “If you can judge my coffee, I figure I can stare.” </p><p>“She takes some coffee with her sugar and cream, too. It’s still gross.” </p><p>“Now who’s staring?” He lifted both eyebrows at her, impish as he sucked the bit of sugar off his thumb. He sat back with a groan, careful to not spill. He liked the way his voice pushed little ripples in the pale sweet surface as he spoke. “I like looking at you.”</p><p>“How are you not embarrassed?” She shook her hair further into her face before frowning. “God, it’s like you are all hardwired to-” Her eyes flickered up, the same flat look that Jason would give him: exasperated and helplessly fond. It was one of Roy’s favorites. Jason’s startling mediterranean blue-green eyes expressive under the lift of a heavy black brow. Jaye turned her head, tensing the corner of her mouth like she was chewing back a smile as she scanned the living room. He didn’t miss the way she flicked her gaze back to him when she took another sip. Roy watched her throat work as she swallowed. “I’m just not used to it, okay?”</p><p>“I promise she probably stares too.”</p><p>Jaye looked up sharply, brows drawing together in that angry line that meant Jason was trying to get a true read on a statement. She met Roy’s eyes, a flicker of something that almost felt like hope burning there before it smoothed back into low grade exasperation. “Maybe just don’t actively hit on me?”</p><p>“I can try, but considering the situation, I’m probably going to mess up a few times,” Roy muttered, tossing his legs out to settle his heels on the coffee table. He stretched his arm along the back of the couch, reaching to pull her attention back to him by tapping a light fingered beat on her shoulder. “I’ll try not to objectify you, but in my defense- <em>objectively-</em> you <em>are</em> a beautiful woman.” She stiffened at the touch, gaze knifing between his fingers settled casually against her skin and his face. He frowned, curling his fingers away and then pulling his arm stiffly back. “Sorry, habit.”</p><p>Jaye sucked her teeth and Roy watched her force herself to relax again. “She’s usually the only one that... you know.”</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“Touches me.” </p><p>“Oh. <em>Oh</em>.” Roy felt himself flush, without defense against the mental picture of this version of Jason with her head tossed back, body writhing as she was touched with intent. He stilled at the tangle of feminine limbs, transfixed by the thought of the round unbound weight of her breasts spread against her arms when she arched. He could see her shaking around throaty moans with her scarred knuckles tangled in long red hair. He knew where he would touch, where his mouth would settle between her thighs. “Are you two-? That... <em>that’s</em> an image.”</p><p>“What? No!” She flushed red, a startling bloom of pink that Roy couldn’t look away from. “We’re not... it’s not like that.” </p><p>“Shit, I’m sorry. My bad. I get it,” He coughed a laugh, closing his eyes and tipping his head against the back of the couch, rubbing at his stomach with an absent hand. “Yeah, no. That would never happen.”</p><p>“Right.” Roy heard the audible click of her teeth, noting the way she huffed, shifting to uncurl- movements jerky as she tugged at her shirt, her pants, and shoved her hair out of her face. She settled into a loose sprawl, knees spread and head back as she stared up at the ceiling. “Absolutely not a thing that would happen.” He watched her rub her eyes, coffee wobbling dangerously until she sighed. “Not that she doesn’t have a lot of sex. She does.  All the time. Loudly.  With other people. She’s just very...,” she wet her lips, frowning at her coffee as she took a small sip. “Free.”</p><p>“Is that what you’re calling it?” Roy heard himself ask, a small curl of something that felt like shame hooking into his stomach. “‘Cause it sounds like she’s an adult who likes sex. There’s absolutely nothing wrong with tha-”</p><p>“She can have sex with whoever she wants,” Jaye snapped, mouth a thin line. “It’s whatever. As long as she’s... happy.” She slanted Roy a look. “I just hate the way she dims when no one is looking.” She rocked her head from side to side before rolling to watch him quietly. “She thinks I don’t see it, but I do.”</p><p>The living room was quiet between them and Roy tucked his hand under his thigh to keep from reaching out, to keep himself from carding her hair back from her face. He felt her eyes tracking over him, cataloguing the shape of him. He couldn't hold the look, couldn't keep it. It didn't seem fair. He leaned out, setting his coffee down and tugged the tie from his hair, scratching at his scalp before scooping it back to catch and twist into a messy bun. </p><p>He froze when her fingers traced the edge of a ripped seam on his jeans, picking a bit of white cotton. Her nails were short, fingers long and elegant despite the way the pinky and ring finger seemed to have healed wrong, stiff and a little crooked. He pushed a quiet careful smile onto his face, tracing a line of white silvery scar that drew a neat line from her nail bed to the third knuckle. It was a surgical scar. He knew it.</p><p>"Now who's staring?" he asked, voice half caught and husky in his throat as he forced the tease to slip between them. He watched her mouth, watched the hitched breath, and it could be easy. It could be a simple thing to reach and slowly press his fingers to the plush bow of her top lip, the slight overbite that left her looking unimpressed with the world around her. He could tip the moment against his palm and duck to sip a sigh from her lips. He could.</p><p>"I want to go home," she said instead, pulling her hand back, pulling away.</p><p>Roy blew out a long breath and burst into motion, scrubbing his palms over his thighs and forcing his body to behave. "Okay. Let's... let's get to work."</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Inside out and backwards</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Jason and Royal come to an understanding. Roy and Jaye do the heavy lifting. Roy's kid is cute in any universe.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Jason propped himself up on an elbow, the sheets shoved off the edge of the wide bed. He exhaled, reaching to trace the line of pale skin. The soft bumps of Royal's spine tipped under his touch as she squirmed, shifting to flop her head to the side and blink at him.  She wrinkled her nose, grunting softly as she shoved her hair out of her face, eyes crossed slightly as she picked a stray strand from her mouth. "If you can still move I am out of practice."</p><p>"Mm." Jason snorted, tipping his hand and spreading his fingers wide, slotting into the space between her ribs, thumb dropping to trace the slight curve of her breast. </p><p>"At least you're nonverbal. I've still got it. <em>Boo-yah</em>.” She made a small victorious gesture that was mostly wiggling her long freckled fingers. “Good." She grinned and Jason's heart stuttered once at how familiar it was- Roy's smile made softly crooked and perfect. </p><p>He pressed his thumb to a thick mottled patch of freckles on the back of her shoulder, tan-line visible where they faded. He traced the line of pale skin, pretty as spilled milk. He found one of the shiny pink scars, blinking as he learned the feel of it, the way it puckered and shifted when she moved.  Royal was face down on the bed, naked and watching him with hooded eyes, pink mouth swollen and pale skin littered with stubble rash and the long reddened lines his fingers had pulled into her skin. He could see a bruise on her hip, could see where each of his fingers had gripped her thigh. She wore him like a page wore ink. He reached, carding his fingers into her hair, fascinated by the slip of it over his knuckles, slithering fast and pooling around her shoulders. It split at the back of her neck and he ducked, pressing his mouth there, listening to the soft choked hum the touch pulled from her. </p><p>“Are we going to tal-?” she started.</p><p>Jason closed his eyes and touched his tongue when her body moved, her fingers reaching back to tangle in his hair as she bent her neck into the touch.</p><p>"Again?"</p><p>"Again," he agreed, stretching his hand down, over the warm skin of her ass to where her thighs parted on a soft sound, on what was almost his name yearned against the cotton. She was still wet, still a messy desperate heat and he watched her eyes flutter shut as he reached to slip inside.</p><p>**</p><p>“I think the probability current overrode the bound state. Damn! This is a mess. Look, it fucked with the positon rotation. Is that even-? I'll need to fiddle with the amplitude," Roy muttered, staring at the small snapped solid-state-current drive. The machine was taller than him, the exterior smooth under a waterfall of current cabling. The interior smelled like ozone and mildly of melted plastic. He'd been too excited by the concept to give much thought to the difficulty of repairs and was now tipped head first into the machine. The faulty board was smooth where a pulse of Fermi-Drac ionation had polished over any solid state particles. "This is insane. Check this out.” </p><p>The machine rocked as he tried to squirm to the side, making room to show the nearly mirror-like slate of the part. "You see this?" He pointed, letting the small circle of light Jaye was holding find what he was talking about. He reached, tongue tucked into the corner of his mouth and heaved slightly deeper with a light kick of his feet. He needed to get closer to pry the board from its socket. Roy hissed as the metal of the case edge scraped cold against the exposed skin of his pelvis. He squirmed, his shirt drooping around his ribs as he went nearly inverted.  The elastic of his boxers caught on the lip of the machine. They kept him from slipping too far. “It used to be marked with specific Clebsch–Gordan coefficient notations. Now? Fuck man, it's <em>completely</em> indistinguishable now. This is probably what fucked everything up. That's... that's going to be difficult to fix."  </p><p>"English, Royalll-<em>Roy</em>. Harper," came the soft voice at his back, the small precise spot of light from the flashlight shifting as Jaye moved automatically to secure him. She was leaning in over his back to shine the light into the machine for him. Her hips settled tight against his ass and her knee was a solid press between his thighs. Roy felt an abortive touch against his lower back before her hand settled against his skin, her palm pressing with a forced surety. Jaye was a strong woman, a collection of sharply defined muscle, coiled power, and sturdy thighs. The warm press of her hand was keeping him from overcompensating and falling into the machine. He swallowed and set his fingertips on the board to hide the small startled twitch at the touch. He was used to ignoring the warm throb of arousal that perked up in his ribs.</p><p>"Backing out!" he warned. The light went a little wild as she tucked the flashlight between her jaw and shoulder and gripped his hips. He exhaled a soft noise and kicked his ankles, wobbling as he wriggled out. There was a snap of metal as he pulled the smoothed part from the bracket to examine more closely. The machine’s interior was a small space, awkward and tight. "Can you?" Roy paused, trying to manuever around the tangle of wires and sharp chipped edges of a few silcone mother boards. "Shit." He’d have to rethink the design. He struggled, grateful when she reached into the machine, pulling some of the wires to the side to help. “Thanks.” He hissed when his hair caught sharply on a jagged clamp, a bright flicker of pain as he was snagged. It yanked painfully before he tried to twist and reach, unsuccessfully trying to get a hand to where he was caught and unsnarl himself.  “One sec. <em>Ow</em>. Fuck. It's got me, Jay. Help.” </p><p>“Stop moving,” she snapped, the frank command utterly familiar. Jason would reach over and grip his fingers on a stakeout, silencing the unconscious drumming or press a palm against his knee to still the anxious jitter. He froze when she leaned further into him, pushed fully against his back to delicately detangle him from the machine one handed. She had her other hand gripping his hip. “You’re caught. Just let me...”</p><p>“Usually I get dinner first,” Roy managed, proud that his voice hadn’t cracked. He could feel her pressing against him; he tried not to imagine deeper- flushing at the full shape of her breasts against his back and the push of her knee between his thighs. It was an accident. He told his dick to calm down when it twitched hopefully.  She was helping him; he shouldn't make it complicated. This was normal for them. Jason helped and Roy told his libido to shove it.  Jason was always pulling him out of trouble. Roy had jerked off to the feel of Jason caging him to a wall during a firefight, the bruising grip of his fingers when he yanked Roy down, the breathless way his face flushed when he laughed.</p><p>“What? Who said shit about din-oh.” There was a clatter as she pulled back so quickly he could hear her trip. Roy got his feet down, pulling himself upright and squaring his shoulders. She blinked up at him, eyes narrowing once before holding the gaze with a mulish set to her jaw.</p><p>It was the same look that always made him want to catch the sharp stubborn line of Jason’s jaw against his palm and fuck up their friendship. On her, it looked like she almost wanted him to. This close, he could see the way a shocked short breath lifted her ribs. He could see the way she tucked her tongue to the back of her teeth. He could almost taste it, this mistake.</p><p>Roy broke the gaze with a swipe to his face with the back of his wrist. He wasn't supposed to be staring. He'd promised. "Thanks." </p><p>"She wears a hat," Jaye said quickly, voice going flat in tandem to the quick step back. "To keep her hair from getting tangled. It's the ugliest thing I've ever seen, but-"</p><p>Roy pointed to where his trucker hat was sitting on the workbench near the door. "Don't talk shit about my baby."</p><p>"I will kill it with fire," she sniped back, shooting a glare at it before visibly collecting herself. “And dance in its ashes. I hate that fucking hat.”</p><p>"You love it, don't lie," Roy snorted, wincing a little as he pulled the hair tie out and detangled the bit that had been yanked out of his ponytail. "I know he would wear it if I let him. He's just mad he looks stupid in a snapback-"</p><p>"Not everyone has a head for hats," she grumped, nose wrinkling as she crossed her arms over her chest. She was a picture perfect definition of guilty embarrassed frustration.</p><p>Roy beamed, delighted at the way she was visibly pouting. "Holy shit, you wish <em>you</em> could wear her hat!"</p><p>"Shut up. That is filth and slander," she growled, pinking lightly and slanting him a look up through her thick lashes. "No one wants to wear that ugly thing."</p><p>"Aw, Jaybird," Roy cooed, unable to stop himself from the tease. "You can wear mine." He leaned over, snagging it up by the brim, the fabric worn out and frayed at one edge and slung it onto her head. </p><p>"<em>Don't</em>-"</p><p>"There." He stuffed his hands into his pockets and wished he had a camera.</p><p>Jaye was frowning with her whole body, mouth a deep warm curve as her eyes crossed slightly to look up at the brim. This version of Jason still looked two seconds from violence and Roy swallowed around a dry mouth. She was beautiful under the threat corded in her shoulders, in the power of her muscled arms. She had Jason's dark hair, longer and curling away from her face. It was caught awkwardly under the cap and blooming outward in a glossy tangle. She was slowly going red, the blush pressing heat into her cheeks and he wanted to know if the tips of her ears were pink. Jason's went pink.</p><p>Roy moved before he could think about it, before he could talk himself out of it, stepping close to carefully brush her hair back. He tucked the silky strands behind the curve of her ear. </p><p>Jaye went wide eyed, staring up at him as he settled the hat correctly. Roy let his grin shift from something blinding to a soft question. Maybe she would answer him. Maybe she would see it. He could hear her breathing. He could hear the sharp gasp inhaled through her nose as she tried not to react, shivering and tense. The workroom was quiet, the machines silent. There was no music today, he’d needed her to be able to hear him and had laughed as he fumbled the automatic playlist off. She'd rolled her eyes and waved him to work. Now, he wet his lips and she mirrored the movement, a flash of wet pink tongue that sizzled across the front of his brain. Roy's wrist twitched, his thumb stroking lightly around her ear. Her skin felt soft and he reveled in the velvety ache of her skin, the slight dimple from a healed piercing. He traced the line of the brim against her forehead, pushing the fine hairs under. Jaye's arms unfolded, a slow opening as her wrists hung at her sides. Jason let his guard down just like this, slowly and then all at once. Roy nodded. This was permission. He stepped closer, into her space and pulled the dark cloud of her curls back, gathering them at the nape of her neck.</p><p>“What are-?” He felt her fingers press to his stomach. Jason could be gentle when he wanted to be too.</p><p>Roy moved the weight of her hair into his left hand, resting his wrist against the heat of the pale skin at the back of her neck. “There you are.”</p><p>**</p><p>“Do you think?” Royal breathed, pale skin flushed as her hips rolled. She had both hands splayed over his stomach, small tits caught tight between the corded strength of her arms as she rode him. It was liquid and perfect. His hands skimmed over her body- hungry and eager. He smoothed his hands along her thighs, over the flex of her hips, along her sides. He couldn’t look directly at her. He’d tried, lifting his head and staring. His gaze glanced off of her, startled and distraught. His fingertips mapped where their bodies joined, where her chest heaved. He had to close his eyes at the hot open look she handed him like he deserved it. “Are <em>they</em>?”</p><p>Jason’s jaw clenched so hard he could hear his teeth grind. He thought about Roy, about <em>his</em> Roy. He pictured the long liquid line of his back, the marks he wore on his skin after sex. His mind supplied the soft grating groans he could hear Roy make through the walls. He thought about the snarling smile that he’d seen the one time he’d come home too soon. It felt flash burned into him: the way Roy’s red hair had hung around his face, the way his freckles seemed to melt into the blotchy pink flush pulled high in his skin, the way Roy had panted, hips working in a fluid impeccable rhythm as he fucked the girl he had bent over the kitchen table. He had tried to ignore the soft growled, "Hey, Jaybird."</p><p>“I don’t,” he managed. He pictured the girl with dark curls and scars. He pictured Roy’s hands on her cheek- the touch reverent and soft. “<em>No</em>.”</p><p>Something possessive and dark snarled angrily in his stomach, he planted a heel, lifting her on the next thrust to roll her onto her back. She laughed, delighted and held on.</p><p>**</p><p>They’d spent most of the morning in this workspace. They’d spent most of the day putting together a strange sort of timeline of events while Jaye would bend randomly to pluck a splinter of porcelain off the floor and toss it to the trash. They’d spent hours in close proximity, falling into the natural banter like pulling on yesterday’s jeans. He’d sassed. She’d frowned. He’d started talking about the project, watching her eyes glaze over as he explained. He’d watched her disassemble every gun in the cabinet, cleaning them as he tried to figure out what could have caused the incident. He’d crawled into the machine, the small space warming as he breathed.</p><p>All of this and he was stuck in the same endless moment of indecision in the end. Roy was too close; he was always too close. This Jason Todd was looking up at him under the brim of his hat and he couldn’t look away. She was too short to be <em>his</em> Jason, but she had the same careless danger tattooed on her bones. He wanted to touch the scar cutting her brow. </p><p>“What are-?” she started, voice the pretty musical cadence that made Roy need to listen.</p><p>Her face was a study in a certain kind of beauty. Jason’s was the same. Theirs was a face made to be looked at, to be studied, in Roy’s opinion. The squared hew of the jaw, the high cheekbones, the angry thick arch of eyebrows over tired eyes lined with thick lashes that seemed too long to be real. Roy knew the way those lashes curled up, nearly brushing the low glowering brow. The blue green of Jason’s eyes was startling, quixotic and changing from the pale gray blue to something yellowed and then up close a messy chaos of interlinked colors. The stark dotted freckles collected in small groups of threes: one at their jawline drawing the eye to the next over their right cheek and then to their earlobe, another triangle formed at the bridge of their nose, above their right eyebrow, and under their right eye. There was another on Jason’s neck above the scar Bruce had left. Roy knew the one on the back of his neck. He knew there was another on the top of his bare foot. He knew each one punctuating the scars on his forearm. Roy knew there were more on his collarbone and his shoulder. He loved the one dark fleck in Jason's right eye.</p><p>He wanted to know if there were more. He wanted to know all of them. He wanted to count them. He wanted to trap them under his fingertips.</p><p>“Roy?”</p><p>“Keep it,” Roy managed. “The hat.” He watched himself reach. He watched as he touched the freckle under her right eye with a light thumb, swallowing thickly even as his index settle at the one on her jaw. He could feel her tilt her head, a fraction of a moment to press like she’d almost nuzzled into his hand. “It looks good on you.”</p><p>“I look stupid,” she grumbled and Roy’s fingers tensed, unconsciously negating the criticism even as her head tipped back at the tug. </p><p>“You’re beautiful.” </p><p>“Grayson is the beauti-”</p><p>“Damn it, Jaye, take the compliment. Fuck Grayson. I didn’t tell him he’s beautiful. I told you.” </p><p>“God, you don’t get it,” she whispered. “You shouldn’t- <em>she</em> shouldn’t. I can’t compare. I’m damaged. You shouldn’t. You should pick... she needs to pick-” She bit down on her lip, frown going malleable as her chin dimpled and she forced her face back to unmoved. “She’s so necessary. She doesn’t get it. She’s fighting all the time against what people think she is, who they fucking decided she had to stay. People change!  All the goddamn time! She’s so <em>good</em> and just being around me means she has to fight <em>harder</em>. I’m this monster and she’s my best friend. How can she not see she deserves better than me? Anyone but me. Grayson or Troy. Hell, anyone but me. I’m too selfish, though. I won’t.. I don’t want-” She frowned sharply, her entire face a soft rictus of shame. “She should be the hero. She deserves to be the <em>hero</em>.”</p><p>“You have never been more wrong,” he told her, gentle and firm. Roy would pick Jason, every time. He would remind Jason every time he forgot. This was no different. “That’s not why-”</p><p>“Please, she needs to know she’s important.” He watched as she flushed. The warmth bloomed bright and he felt it, the way the heat pooled high on her cheeks, making her ears go hot under his touch. He could feel it against his wrist. “She needs to <em>know</em>.”</p><p>“I’m an idiot.”</p><p>“No, you’re not,” Jaye muttered, automatic and heartfelt. Her mouth dropped open slightly and Roy held himself still, shivering inside his roughly held control. He took a chance.</p><p>“Jaybird,” he heard his voice crack, felt her name reflect back as he ducked closer. He could almost taste her breath. “I want to kis-”</p><p>“Do it.” She shifted, bracing herself.</p><p>Roy ducked, catching the permission with a soft sigh as she folded against him, curling a strong arm around the small of his back and dropped her head into his palm. She was letting him, the allowance a heady rush of heat that stuttered him closer like his heartbeat pulsed so hard his feet moved. He felt the curious touch of her tongue and closed his eyes, smiling to open into it, to her. He let her kiss him, sipping at the soft sigh that he’d tuck into his most careful memories. </p><p>“God, I’ve <em>wanted</em>,” he told her like she was him. He fumbled the hat from her head, heard it hit the ground and tossed the broken machine part to skitter across the surface of his worktable. He needed to focus. He needed both hands free so he could pull back just enough to pet those curls away from her face. This might be all he ever was allowed. Roy needed to tuck his fingers into her hair, to feel her jaw in his palms. She snarled, shoving onto her toes and into another kiss, determined and awkward as she attacked. It felt like a fight, like all she knew how to do with a touch was strike. </p><p>He'd take the hit. He'd take the blow. Roy knew he’d willingly bleed for her. He had already bled for Jason. She gripped him by the hair, her strong hand curling in the fabric at the back of his thigh. He ducked, ready to haul her up when an alarm beeped: the door upstairs had been disarmed.</p><p>“Roy? Are you home?” Connor’s voice was a warm rich baritone. It carried clearly through the house, a warning bell followed by the sharp rumble of small feet clattering across the ceiling before the door to the basement slapped open. He heard Lian racing down the stairs with a soft admonishment following her. “Lian, don’t run.”</p><p>Roy groaned a reluctant sound against Jaye’s jaw. He wasn’t finished. He wasn’t nearly finished. She choked a muffled confused yelp and shoved him roughly backwards. The workshop slammed back into his senses. The cinder block wall behind her head, the way the rough cement caught her hair. The machine behind them cracked open with a small rolling table pulled close. The flashlight she’d been holding was still on, pointing a wide white circle onto the opposite wall. His hat was upside down on the cement floor, brim pointing at a tarp that he had spread over another half finished project. His gaze narrowed, focused on what was important in that second. </p><p>Jay’s breath heaved once, her arms straight out and braced against his shoulders. He could feel their strength and wanted to push and fight forward again. She was watching him with the same hot focus before her eyes flicked to the side, to the door. “Shit.” Roy watched her eyes go wide and managed to not reach to pull her back to kiss one more time as his daughter squirmed through the half open door and tiptoed through the mess.</p><p>“Here,” he whispered, pulling one of the hair ties from his wrist and handing it to her quickly. He had time to turn and plant himself between his daughter and where Jaye was collecting herself. “Lian!”</p><p>“Daddy!” Lian crowed, throwing herself across the workspace and into his arms. Roy was mussed and panting even as he beamed at his daughter. He tugged his shirt down and tried to hitch his jeans higher on his hips. “Uncle Connor has to go on an adventure with Aunt Mia so he said I could come home early because I didn’t want to stay at Grampa Ollie’s right now. We tried there first." She made a face and whispered conspiratorially to him. "Grampa and Aunt Dinah are being extra mushy.” She rambled breathlessly, excited and a little manic. Roy could smell the sweet caramel of cookies on her breath. “I made something for Jay. You can look too.”</p><p>“Oh yeah?” he asked, shifting his gaze to where his brother, Connor, was slipping through the doorway. The younger man tipped his head looking apologetic when he clocked where Jaye was standing behind Roy even as Lian twisted out of Roy’s arms and dropped her book-bag. She tucked into it, digging around to find the drawing. She was wearing her favorite t-shirt with a small orange dinosaur wearing sunglasses, a black beanie, and a purple zip front hoodie over a pair of small dark jeans cuffed at her ankles. Her hair was in two low pigtails that stuck out from under the knit cap at cheerful angles. She was sporting a black eye and two neon bandaids covering the rashed scrape she’d gotten flinging herself from the swingset at the park two days ago. </p><p>“We’ve been reading The Phantom Tollbooth together, so I drew-” She cut off, standing up quickly like she’d just noticed the stranger in the room. Lian pointed at Jaye, eyes narrowing distrustfully before turning to frown at Roy. “Who’s that?”</p><p>“Lian, munchkin,” Roy managed, voice strangled as he met Connor’s eyes briefly. “I can explain.”</p><p>“We didn’t know you had company,” Connor said quietly, his smile placid as he tilted his head to where Jaye was combing quick fingers back through her hair and managing to look both embarrassed and furious (or was that terrified). It telegraphed in the hard line of her shoulders. “I’m sorry.” Connor frowned, face confused. “Is that a female Ja-?”</p><p>“We?” Roy interrupted.</p><p>“Connor? Roy? Where is everyone?” Connor pointed toward the ceiling as Mia’s voice came from upstairs, a soft raspy alto. “Hello?”</p><p>“Did you bring <em>everyone</em>?” Roy smiled at Connor tightly through his teeth. He turned, tossing a soft look to where Jaye was standing. “It’s going to be okay.”</p><p>“You didn’t answer your phone,” Connor replied, looking unfairly amused.</p><p>“Oh <em>God</em>-” Jaye exhaled, color draining from her face at each new interruption.</p><p>“Daddy?” Lian’s voice was taking on that sharp indignant tone she used when he tried to deflect a question.</p><p>“Why don’t we go upstairs, sweetheart?” Roy managed, moving between where Lian’s gaze had gone calculating and visibly assessing. He watched her squint, pushing her jaw out as she stared at Jaye. There was a moment of careful thought before her whole little face went bright and open with surprise. “I can explain everything.”</p><p>“What did you do, Daddy?” Lian asked, letting him heft her up and settle at his hip. He smacked a kiss to her cheek. She was still watching Jaye over his shoulder. She got the same look when she was putting a puzzle together.</p><p>“Well,” Roy started, leaning them both over to pluck the part from where he’d tossed it on the table top. “Remember when we were talking about Daddy’s new machine?”</p><p>“The one that’s like a mirror against a mirror?”</p><p>“Yes,” Roy beamed at her. He swallowed and looked over to where Jaye had tucked everything away, a flat placid mask of calm competency settling over her. “I may have accidentally pushed Jason through the mirror.”</p><p>“That wasn’t very smart.” Lian frowned and shook her head at him. “He’s going to be so mad at you.”</p><p>Roy choked on a laugh. “You’re not wrong, munchkin. You are not wrong.”</p><p>**</p><p>“I think something must have happened with the positron matrices,” Royal said. She was on her back, tracing the splay of his fingers where he had a possessive hand on her stomach. He could feel the blunt edge of her nail tracing the scar that ran the length of his finger from nail bed to knuckle. “The ability to predict location is dependent on the inability to know speed. We must have inadvertently found both speed and location of the central particle at the same time.” </p><p>She lifted her hands, twisting to stretch her shoulders before rolling onto her side to face him. Jason cracked an eye so he could watch his finger trace the new curve of her breast and circle the rosy pink of a nipple. She batted at him absently before plucking his hand away to resettle at the point of her hip. “The odds are nearly inconceivable-” She paused. “Don’t say it.”</p><p>Jason bit back the movie quote. He liked that sometimes he had a pop culture reference to add. He’d been dozing, curled into a pile of blankets she had shoved onto him when he’d spread a cold hand over her stomach to tug her back against his chest. “Oh, come on.”</p><p>“No,” she repeated, grin going crooked and helplessly fond. She pulled her hair over her shoulder, twisting it at her neck before bending to catch a quick kiss. It felt like she’d been starving, feeding herself in small bites now that she was allowed. “Anyway, I think if I can get into the machine, maybe I can figure out where the short was and back track to the actual fault. If I can do some reverse engineering I should be able to figure out what went wrong. And-”</p><p>“And?” Jason allowed, moving his hand as he closed his eyes, enjoying the soft noise of surprise as he slid his fingers between her thighs.</p><p>“God, you’re insatiable,” she exhaled, the vowels round and halfway to a moan.</p><p>“Making up for lost time,” he explained, fascinated by the feel of her, fascinated by the way her face broke open almost pained when he pressed into her. “Please continue.”</p><p>She wrapped a hand around his wrist, but she didn't pull him away. “You utter bastard,” she growled. </p><p>“You’re not stopping me,” he reminded her gently, finding the soft stroked rhythm she liked and teasing her with it.</p><p>“I’m not a-” she stilled, eyes going wide at a soft beep that was followed by the sound of a door opening. “Fuck.”</p><p>“Royal? Hey, are you home?” The voice was a rich velvety alto, melodic as a deep bell. Royal shoved him away sharply, flailing into a scramble that crashed into the nightstand, knocking a pile of science magazines onto the floor along with her wallet and phone. There was a soft pause and Jason could almost feel the way the person had frozen, aware and alert. “Royal? You okay?” There was a quick pause before the sound of small feet came racing towards the bedroom, trailed by a soft admonition. “Jian, don’t run.”</p><p>“I’m fine! One second!” Royal yelled, twisting into a shirt and continuing to panic into a litany of soft swearing. “Fuck. Fuck, fuck fuck.”</p><p>“Mommy!” </p><p>“One sec, baby! Mommy’s-” Royal was groping under the bed for a pair of jeans. She flipped her feet up, hooking them into the leg holes and arching to shove herself into the denim with a nearly impossible speed. The bed bounced. “Mommy’s a little busy. Hang on.”</p><p>“I went to the zoo with Auntie Con-”</p><p>“Jian! Stop!” Royal’s voice went sharp as the door started to open. “Go to the kitchen, munchkin. I’ll... I’ll be right there, okay?”</p><p>The door kept opening, the little boy undaunted as Royal hauled the zipper on the jeans up, tugged the shirt down, and panted a panicked smile at Jason and shoved him roughly off the bed without warning. She threw a pillow at him and straightened as her son ducked in the door. The boy was the same size as Lian, his head down as he pulled his small bookbag off to set on the floor. Jason watched from where he was sitting up, arms folded over the edge of the bed. Royal tried to straighten her hair with quick fingers, but it was a mess and her shirt was on backwards. Jason watched the muscles in her shoulders bunch as she started simply twisting the length of red into a fast bun. </p><p>“We looked at the penguins, but I wanted to show Jaye the picture I made because it’s like the book we’re reading.” He tugged a colorful page from his bag and gave Royal a strange assessing look. “Mommy, what are you doing?” He was a cute kid with shoulder length straight black hair caught under a black knitted beanie. He looked like Lian, with wide soft brown eyes, the full mouth, and irrepressible happiness that was all Roy. The little boy had a pretty barette clipped into the knit cap and Jason blinked at the sparkly pink studs in his ears that matched the necklace hanging over the collar of his shirt. There was a smear of glitter over his right cheek that didn’t match the mildly disapproving frown. “Were you sleeping?”</p><p>“Sort of,” Royal answered, padding forward and palming her son’s head to turn him bodily from her bedroom before he could get too nosy. He tried to peer behind him, curious. Jason swallowed, realizing his clothes were still in the kitchen. </p><p>“Where’s Jaye?” Jian asked, reaching up to pull Royal’s hand from his head. Jason noted that each of the boy’s fingernails were painted a different color. He was wearing a green zip front hoodie and a pale blue shirt with a pink dinosaur on the front. His shoes lit up when he walked, flashing red and strobing the hallway. “I want to surprise her.”</p><p>Royal glanced over her shoulder, widening her eyes at where Jason was moving to his feet, sheet caught around his hips. She mouthed <em>stay put</em> and Jason could only stare at the door as it shut behind her. </p><p>“Heya, little sis,” Royal greeted someone in the hallway, voice a little strained and breathless.</p><p>“Having fun?” came the soft feminine reply, amusement apparent in each syllable. "Found these in the kitchen." </p><p>The door opened and Jason’s clothes were thrown in quickly. “Don’t judge me, Connie. This house is a judgement free zone.”</p><p>“I would never.”</p><p>“Somebody left their <em>underpants</em> in the <em>kitchen</em>, Mom! Jaye’s gonna be mad!”</p><p>“Don’t worry about those, Jian.” There was a soft thumping noise followed by a muffled laugh. “I can explain.”</p><p>Jason sighed and pulled on his pants.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Focus, Harper.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"We've been over this," Roy sighed. "That's Jason."</p>
<p>They'd left the workshop and migrated to the kitchen. Mia settled where she could see everyone, her pale blonde hair pulled up into a messy ponytail. She was a sharp faced girl building muscle mass over her delicate frame, pretty under a sharp blue gaze and smokey eyeliner. She was hammering herself into violence, but her smile was bright and genuine as she looked between him and Jaye. Roy bustled around, picking up the empty bagel bag and stuffing it with the discarded wax paper wrappers. He licked the edge of his thumb, catching the bit of cream cheese. Connor moved to help, stepping across the threshold to bend and dig out the counter spray and the washable cloth towel from under the sink. </p>
<p>“I know, I just want to hear you tell me how you turned your partner into a girl again.” Mia leaned against the island, braced up on her forearms and beamed at where Jaye was letting Lian dangle from her wrist. Roy's daughter had planted both small sneakered feet on the girl's shin and started scaling her like climbing a rope. His sister was delighted, eyes wide as she watched Lian flip over, land solidly, and start climbing again without pausing. “It just... it's not getting old." </p>
<p>"I didn't make Jason a girl. He's still a guy." </p>
<p>"Yeah, <em>okay</em>, Roy." She snorted, tapping her fingertips to the island top, hips shaking from side to side like a cat ready to pounce before she slanted him a sly look. "I think I saw a porno that started like this once."</p>
<p>"What's a porno?" Lian asked, breathless and red faced as she tackled the climb for the fourth time, the skin of Jay's wrist reddened from her play. </p>
<p>"Aunt Mia will explain when you're in middle school," Roy answered, nonplussed. </p>
<p>"The dimensional shift was triggered by a fault in your machine?" Connor asked, calm as he tapped Mia's shoulder to get her to stand and sprayed the island down, wiping it with a tidy back and forth. He had Ollie’s golden hair, green eyes, and sharp cut cheekbones, but the warm brown skin, round teardrop curve of his eyes, and centered smile were entirely his. He stood, crumbs cupped in his palm as he held the dirty rag. "It seems like a difficult thing to reenact a random series of events." He glanced to the side and stared frankly at Jay. "I'm sorry that you are so far from home. This must be very disconcerting."</p>
<p>"You're a girl where I come from," she told him, voice soft and musical even as she hauled Lian up with a quick flex of muscled arm to settle at her hip. This Jason was still thickly muscled, corded with strength set into an hourglass figure. "I'm adjusting."</p>
<p>"I like your hair," Lian told her very seriously, reaching to pet a sweaty palm to the glossy dark curls.</p>
<p>"Thank you," Jaye replied absently, pecking a quick kiss to Lian's temple and Roy turned away to shove the trash in the bin under the sink.  He closed his eyes and nodded a few times, reminding his chest that breathing was a necessary thing.</p>
<p>"It was an experiment," Roy sighed, straightening and reaching to take Lian. His daughter pulled off her beanie with a crackle of static, her fine black hair lifting to halo around her head. She rubbed her face in the knit and dropped it on the counter. She was getting tired. Roy reached, petting it down absently before setting her to sit next to where Mia was still visibly enjoying the situation. "It's not like I <em>intended</em> for the short to activate the-"</p>
<p>"He's about to start saying science shit," Mia told Jaye in a mock whisper.</p>
<p>"Royal does this too. I’ve gotten pretty good at following along." Jaye folded her arms over her chest and cocked her head at him, thickly lashed eyes flicking across his shoulders before returning to his face.</p>
<p>"I knew he was listening!" Roy grinned at her, touching his tongue to his top lip at the way her cheeks pinked slightly when he purposefully held her gaze. "So, I need to find the correct mapping lines to get the machines into the dimensional overlap again. Quantum-"</p>
<p>"Here we go," Jaye mock whispered back to Mia with a flash of a wink, saucy and impertinent. Her gaze slid back to him and Roy didn’t flinch from it, holding it easily. </p>
<p>"Assholes," he remembered to reply tartly. He’d almost forgotten as he watched Jaye's mouth open slightly, a small soft inhale that pulled the fabric of her t-shirt taught over her breasts. It felt intentional. It felt like a tease. He knew the weight of them, knew the shape and his wrists throbbed hotly.  He turned his head towards Mia, eyes lingering on Jaye’s pink cheeks before flicking away reluctantly. "You are all assholes."</p>
<p>"Assholes," Lian repeated in a long suffering tone.</p>
<p>"I need to recreate the initial Clebsch-Gordon striping exactly,” he continued, knowing to ignore Lian’s small outburst. He’d made the mistake of trying to shush her once and had been treated to a full two days of her piping the word ‘bitch’ into conversations and at strangers. He pulled the soft hair-tie from her ponytail, smoothing the straight fine strands down to retie.  “And, I figure if I turn the machine on, eventually the other me-”</p>
<p>“Royal.” Jaye’s voice was a firm interruption.</p>
<p>“<em>Royal</em> will come to the same conclusion and turn hers on.” He redid the opposite ponytail as Lian placidly turned her head to let him reach. “Boom." He widened his eyes at his daughter, pushing an easy kiss to her brow before telling her, "I get my Jason back and Jaye can go back to the chick version of me."</p>
<p>"Wait!" Mia pushed up on straight arms, eyes wide. "Am I dude? I'm a dude aren't I?"</p>
<p>“Milo,” Jaye answered. She kept her arms crossed, eyes flicking around the room to settle back on Roy. She was on guard, tense, and Roy found himself watching her closely. She pointed her chin at Connor. “He’s Connie. Well, Constance.”</p>
<p>Connor smiled, eyes crinkling up at the corners. “I like that. Do we need to contact anyone that could help? Someone who might have access to a larger scientific database? Kyle might have some experience with multidimensional tears, but he’s off planet. I could ask Tim if he can-”</p>
<p>“Tim? As in Drake?” Jaye cut in, unfolding finally and cocking her head in slight question.</p>
<p>“Yeah?” Mia asked. “Robin? At least. He was <em>my</em> Robin.”</p>
<p>“Mine too,” Connor added.</p>
<p>Jaye’s eyebrows lifted. “<em>Tim</em>?” She sounded amused, clarifying once more.</p>
<p>“Don’t worry, babe. You were my Robin for like two seconds.” Roy sighed. “Okay, but to be honest, you didn’t really play well with others. My Robin was mostly Dick.”</p>
<p>“Fanny is <em>Dick</em>?” Jaye looked like Roy handed her a present, delight plain in the genuine smile that he could tease out of Jason. It changed the shape of her face from severe to heart shaped. She was pretty when she went unguarded, the same open look he loved on Jason. He loved the moments he could startle a laugh out of him, watch his head rock back, throat working as he tried to wrangle the smile hidden and closed, his blue-green eyes curved in something genuine. It felt like those were just Roy’s. “Oh man, this day just got so much better.”</p>
<p>“What’s Tim’s name where you are? Tina? Toni? Temperance?” Mia listed, curious. “God! Is she even shorter? Man, bet she’s pocket sized.”</p>
<p>“Tim,” She shrugged. “The Replacement is still Tim. It explains a lot, I guess. He never seemed to have an issue with the suit being built for, well.” She snickered, waving a hand at herself, a deep breath illustrating her curves as her curls fell around her jaw. She snorted again, looking to the side and then back at the counter top. “<em>Dick</em>. What an-” She cut off abruptly, teeth a tight press into the full shape of her bottom lip as she tossed an apologetic look at Roy.</p>
<p>“Asshole,” Lian finished, delighted to be included in the conversation.</p>
<p>*</p>
<p>“I’m coming out,” Jason called, twisting back into his shirt and padding barefoot into the hall. The voices went silent under the soft sound of running water and the muffled clatter of dishes. He lifted an arm, sniffing himself carefully as he paused in the hall just before the kitchen threshold. </p>
<p>“Is that a threat?” a man’s voice asked, a raspy smoker’s baritone that tilted into amusement. “It sounded like a threat.”</p>
<p>“It’s not a threat, Milo,” Royal muttered, her raspy alto pitched to carry into the hall. “Come in Jason.”</p>
<p>“Woah.” </p>
<p>“What?” Jason frowned, rubbing a hand over where his hair was wild from the morning in bed. </p>
<p>Royal was shoulder to shoulder with a rangy broad-shouldered teen who’d spoken as a beautiful woman washed the dishes in the sink. The teen was shorter than Royal, compact likeTim, but with the threat of a growth spurt still imminent. The boy’s floppy bleached-blond hair was lazily shoved out of his face and stubbornly falling back to his jaw, curling tighter near the nape of his neck. He was sharp-faced and openly amused under tired eyes and a west coast kind of handsome built for garage bands and surfboards. He was skinny with deep collarbones and a wiry snappish strength. It was visible as he breathed in a shirt Roy would have worn: a faded band t-shirt with the neck and arms cut out roughly. Jason could see a bruise on his ribs. </p>
<p>Royal was watching him take in the scene, green eyes careful even as she visibly let a fondness arch a brow at where he was stuck in the doorway. Roy always let him take the measure of a room too. “Milo,” she stated, pointing around her coffee cup at the boy before tipping her head at the other woman in the room. “Connie.”</p>
<p>“Hello, it is nice to meet you,” Connie said over her shoulder. She was something else, a simple unadorned beautiful with brown skin and a natural loose curl pattern she kept cut close to her head. It highlighted the round heart shape of her face, the full lush smooth of her lips, and the incredible perfect texture of her skin. She had the Queen blonde hair and green eyes, the smile she had turned down at the soap suds self contained and without malice. </p>
<p>“Damn, he’s bigger than I thought,” the boy, Milo, said, a west coast drawl with a low rasp like a smoker. He turned an impressed look up to where Royal was pinking visibly, ears hot and blush moved behind a sip of coffee. He lifted his eyebrows and a fist that she bumped out of habit. </p>
<p>“That’s the Pit,” Jason surprised himself by saying, frowning when he realized he was missing something- <em>someone</em>. He tilted, glancing around the island before tipping a silent question to Royal who pointed to the living room with her chin. “Heals all sorts of wrongs, I guess. Malnutrition. Hangnails. Crow bar related brain damage. I was kind of runty before.” He turned, finding wide curious eyes peeking over the back of the couch to stare at him. The boy had both hands next to his face, the rainbow of his nails visible. “You okay there, little man?”</p>
<p>“Where’s Jaye?” the boy asked without moving from his crouch.</p>
<p>“Uh.” Jason tipped his head to the side, holding his hand out for the backup he knew Royal would provide. Roy was always handing him things: guns, jokes, excuses.</p>
<p>“Jian,” Royal said, voice light. “Jaye can’t be here all the time. This is Jason. He’s going to help me with the mirror project? You know, the one we were talking about?”</p>
<p>“You better not touch her stuff or she’ll be mad at you,” Jian told him seriously, still peering at him over the cushion suspiciously. “She could kick your ass.” There was a pause before he pushed up, leaning into a small threat. “Easy.”</p>
<p>Jason grinned at the kid, helplessly fond and delighted at the solidarity. “Is that right? She’s a badass?”</p>
<p>“The <em>baddest</em>,” Jian told him, warming to the subject and peeking up as he shifted his weight on his knees. “She has all these guns and she lets me help clean them. She taught me how t-” He clapped his hands over his mouth and ducked back down. </p>
<p>“Was it the thing?” Jason asked, moving his bulk between his hands and the audience behind them to demonstrate a simple and effective thumb hold that could take down an adult if applied properly.</p>
<p>“Oh!” Jian shot back up, smile going wicked and electric before he clambered easily over the back and padded to where Jason was standing, reaching to demonstrate, his small hands dry and warm. He smelled like clean laundry and strawberry shampoo. Jason leaned into the move, dropping lightly to the floor before it dislocated his thumb and grinning up at Jian who was beaming at him. There was a moment of visible decision on the little boy's face before he launched himself at Jason with a shriek.</p>
<p>“Shit, that’s cute,” Milo said behind them.</p>
<p>“I know,” Royal answered.</p>
<p>Jason caught a small booted foot to the stomach, coughing around the surprise of it before laughing into Jian’s attack. The boy was bony, somehow sturdier than Lian but built with the same natural athleticism. “You fight dirty!”</p>
<p>“That’s how you win,” Jian explained, his small face determined as he attacked again, whooping happily as Jason caught him around the waist and struggled to stand. “Cheater!”</p>
<p>“That’s how you win,” Jason parroted, snorting when the kid went boneless, dangling in a full body flop as they moved back to the kitchen. </p>
<p>“You dropped something,” he told Royal, lifting the boy onto the island and watching him pull off his beanie with a rude gimlet eye and start straightening his shirt, his hoodie, and his necklace. Royal dipped a hand into the running faucet and smoothed the wild crackle of black hair back down where it had lifted into life from static.</p>
<p>“Oh, I was looking for that. Where did you find it?” she answered, moving around the island to lean a shoulder affectionately against his. Jason let himself slip a hand against the back of her thigh, stunned at how easy it was to slot into familiar patterns. He wondered if Roy would let him. He wondered if Roy would bite back the same sharp inhale. </p>
<p>“Last place I looked,” he told her, stuck and grinning at her where she was looking over at him. She had a red mark at the join of her neck and shoulder. He’d left it there, hungry and helpless as he tasted freckled skin. “Go figure.”</p>
<p>“You finally stopped looking when you found it,” Royal answered and Jason froze, eyes going wide at the seemingly accidental brush of knuckles to the seam over the zipper of his jeans.</p>
<p>“Is that how that works?” he managed, when her touch continued on purpose.</p>
<p>“Connie, get the hose. They’re doing the thing.”</p>
<p>“Are you surprised?” came the warm answer, dragging Jason’s eyes to where the woman had turned off the tap, pulled the drain plug, and turned, drying her hands on a dishtowel. He’d almost forgotten they were there. “Do you have a plan?”</p>
<p>Royal blinked, setting her hands flat on the island and pressing a quick kiss to Jian’s hair before sighing. “I think I’m going to need to disassemble the machine. Try to figure out what went wrong to determine how to recreate the overlap.” Jian reached, picking up her hands and idly threading his fingers with hers, the affection easy and gentle. “I have a feeling it-”</p>
<p>“She’s going to start saying science shit like I understand it,” Milo sighed, frowning as his head fell back. “I should just call Tim and get him to translate.”</p>
<p>“Tim?” Jason snorted. “He’s a dude here?”</p>
<p>“Last I checked. Not... not that I <em>check</em>, but- <em>Ugh</em>.”</p>
<p>“Kylie might be able to access the Lantern records to see if there’s any precedent for inter-dimensional overlap?” Connie interrupted easily, bolstering Milo with a light hand to his wrist.</p>
<p>“This is less overlap and more an equivalent exchange,” Royal answered. Her brows pulled together and she snagged the hair tie from her hair, scratching at her scalp before tugging it back up. She didn’t pause when Jian pulled her hand to his hair, starting to braid the slippery black strands as she thought. “It’s not an equal distribution of mass though, which is what I’m worried about. Current theory would need for it to be equitable or else there’s going to be a rush to fill the vacuum. Which... I should have realized before. It would start trying to fix the imbalance. But you’re so much bigger than she is? I’m wondering if we’d even notice on this side? You’re more of a ripple like a stone and she’d be more a divot that bent reality to tilt to fill. Kind of like sand shifting in an hourglass-”</p>
<p>“Wait, what?” Jason blinked, turning to look at her. “That doesn’t sound good.”</p>
<p>“I’ll fix it before the universe implodes, Jaybird.” She grinned at him. “Don’t worry.” She tilted her head up, thinking. “That's the worst possible scenario. And anyway, you’d be the last to be folded into the interstitial relapse since you’re more the center of the puncture. Fuck, I didn’t even think that it would start at the edges and pour directionally there, just that it would expand outward from you in nearly indistinguishable changes until the waves grew-” She cut off abruptly and looked at Connie. “Call Rayner. She’s going to need to put the word out.”</p>
<p>“Fuck,” Jian repeated, solemn around his careful contribution to the conversation.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>god, I make slappy table hands like a gleeful toddler over feedback.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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